The Man
by McRaider
Summary: From the little Boy to the Man, Luke changes after coming home from the war, just a tale of his first real day and a half home. Complete


The Man  
McRaider912  
Summary: Sequel to 'The Little Boy' it doesn't take a genius that everyone who goes to war comes home a man or woman.  
Author's Note: Don't own 'em don't own the song, hope ya'll come back now!

_I knew a man called him Sandy Kane  
__Few folks even knew his name  
__But a hero yes was he  
__Left a boy came back a man  
__Still many just don't understand  
__About the reasons we are free_

_I can't forget the look in his eyes  
__Or the tears he cried  
__As he said these words to me_

_All gave some and some gave all  
__And some stood through for the red, white and blue  
__And some had to fall  
__And if you ever think of me  
__Think of all your liberties and recall  
__Some gave all..._

_Some Gave All-Billy Ray Cyrus_

Here they stood again, just short of two years later, but what had seemed like a century to the family. Jesse sighed, he could remember every single letter from his nephew for the past two years. It was the boy's last letter six months ago, and the letter he had received from the Marines that stuck out vividly in his mind.

The first letter had been to apologize that his nephew had gone MIA, it had been another four months before Jesse and his family heard anything about their missing Marine. Two months and two days ago they had received another letter explaining that Luke was alive and had been wounded in action. The final letter had been just two weeks ago, from a doctor in a MASH unit over in Vietnam, explaining that Luke was coming home.

After nearly two years Jesse was chomping at the bit to see his eldest nephew, he was well aware of what a war could do to a man, and while he didn't believe in violence he knew that some wars were fought to keep the American people safe, and he believed in serving one's country.

The bus that was carrying his nephew would arrive in moments. Jesse's mind kept running through every moment of the little boy's life before he had left for Vietnam. Jesse knew he wouldn't be a little boy when he stepped off the bus, he would be a man now, a man who had seen things, heard things and felt things no boy or man should ever have to see, hear or feel.

The bus finally pulled up in front of the bus station, and a million scenarios began to run through Jesse's mind as he thought of all the injuries that could get a boy sent home…alive. Each one worse than the one before it; as the doors were pushed open, Jesse said a silent thanks that there were very few other people around, he had heard and seen some of the coverage of people spitting and screaming at those poor boys returning from war, and he didn't want his boy to be one of them.

An older gentleman stepped off the bus, he carried a duffle bag in his left hand, he placed it on the ground and turned to the door, Jesse spotted him, he was on crutches, limping off the bus, his left leg wrapped tightly in a secure bandage, but the rest of him seemed to be in one piece.

There were things, however, that no man or woman could over look, the pale contrast of his skin, which had been tanned the day he stepped on that bus. The sunken look of his blood shot azure blue eyes, the bags under them that could qualify as luggage, which were surrounded by dark circles; whether from sleepless nights or injuries and boxing Jesse didn't know and wasn't sure he wanted to. His hair was longer now, no doubt from being held as a POW for four months, what was once a clean face was no the beginnings of a beard. He had once been a healthy 180 lbs. was no an unhealthy 130 or 140. His clothes hung off him as though he wore a size ten times larger than normal. His once steady arms shook from strain, fear, and lack of food as he reached out to shake the older man's hand. Blue eyes that had once sparkled with love, life and childhood innocence were now dull with pain and fear.

"Thanks again Cal," Luke managed quietly.

The bus driver nodded and gently squeezed the man's shoulder, "you take care of yourself now Lucas," with that the older man made his way back on the bus.

Luke looked up and spotted his family almost instantly. Daisy could no longer keep to herself, she ran towards her cousin, she had missed him dearly. She was pleased when he dropped his crutches and threw his arms out, waiting for her glorious loving hug.

He lifted her off her feet as he swooped her up into his arms, he had excellent balance for a man with one good leg, but he hugged her tight and buried his face in her hair, taking in the beautiful scent of the country, apple pies and Daisy's favorite perfume. Her own arms were wrapped tightly around his neck as she held onto him.

He placed her back down on her feet and took a long slow look at her, taking in every detail of her, "have you grown, you must be six or seven inches taller. Look at yer hair, it's grown a lot since I left. I've missed you baby girl," he said hugging her tightly again.

"I've missed you so much!" she said gripping him around the waist this time.

"Wanna help a Marine?" he asked grinning, but it wasn't the grin Jesse was used to, it was void of life and excitement, the momentary love from Daisy wasn't enough to bring justice to the world around.

She picked up his crutches and handed them to him, which he gladly took, she then hefted the duffle bag into her arms and together they made their way over to Uncle Jesse and Bo.

Luke took his first long look at both of them: Bo was now nearing seventeen probably, and had a long head of honey blonde hair and the same ocean bright blue eyes, so full of life and excitement. He wasn't the short chubby little boy anymore either, he must have shot up nearly a foot, and had grown well into his stocky body and was now toned and muscled. He was certainly all legs, though he always had been.

Uncle Jesse's bear was a little grayer, no doubt from Bo's antics, and he had a few more wrinkles in his face, but he was still the same old Uncle Jesse, in his overalls and that red hat. Luke stepped up to his Uncle Jesse and smiled sadly. Jesse instantly reached out his arms to his young nephew and took the boy into his arms, "Luke my boy," Jesse thanked God as he hugged his child, that the Lord had sent Luke back to them alive.

"It's good to see ya Uncle Jesse," Luke said patting his Uncle on the back.

Jesse drew away from the hug and caught Luke's face between his aged and calloused hands, "I'm glad your home son, I love you," Jesse whispered.

"I love you too Uncle Jesse," Luke said patting his Uncle's hand.

Jesse let his nephew go and pulled Daisy close, as Luke turned to his baby cousin, the youngest member of the family now held unshed tears in his eyes. Luke reached out and placed his hand on Bo's shoulder, gently rubbing his thumb against the boy's cheek, "Bo…" Luke couldn't find the words to say.

"I've missed you," whimpered Bo.

"Me too buddy," he pulled him close with one hand and hugged him tightly, "I'm sorry I haven't written you," he murmured.

"It's okay, you're home now, it don't matter. As long as you're safe," Bo said.

Luke held him and was surprised boy how even they were in height now, "you've grown up haven't ya," chuckled Luke softly.

"Guess I have," B o said grinning softly.

"Let's go home," Jesse suggested, they all helped Luke to the Daisy's jeep, Jesse and Bo sat in the back, allowing Luke to stretch his leg out in the front of the car. He was quiet most of the way home, inserting comments here and there when someone spoke to him.

It didn't take long to get home, but for Luke as he slowly lifted himself out of the jeep he realized it had taken far too long. He was exhausted, and knew if he could get sleep somewhere it might be here. Nightmares plagued his sleep every night of the things he had seen and heard, the pain of what he had gone through, the pain of those he had lost, knowing he may never see Phil, Steve, Peter or Jake. He had been close to all the men he had worked with. He and Steve had headed up one of the Platoons and they had led them through life, death and terrible memories.

His mind wandered to Steve who was probably now at home with his father in California and his little sister. Steve had told him a million stories about the sweet little girl, and he remembered everyone of them. They had all shared stories about their families, brothers, sisters, sons, cousins, daughters and wives.

A part of him wished he could go back just to see them again, but that would mean carrying his gun again, the knife in his boot, the sleeping on the cold ground, the deafening sound of shells going off, guns being fired by men just as young as he had been…who were just trying to protect themselves like he had been trying to.

"Are ya hungry Luke?" Daisy asked.

"Ah…actually I'm kinda tired, think I'll go lie down for a spell," he muttered as he hobbled away from his family.

Luke sighed as he sat down on his bed and rubbed his face in exhaustion and frustration. Every moment of the past year and several months running through his mind. He was supposed to have gone home two days after he had been captured along with Steve and Phil. They had suffered together…Peter had been killed. Somehow they had all gotten out.

Phil had been given the Purple Heart, while Steve and he had been awarded the Bronze Star. As Luke sat there, remembering what they had gone through he couldn't think of anyone more deserving of the wards than Peter, and anyone less deserving than they had been.

He pulled off his shoes and turned over in his bed, lying away from the door, he closed his eyes against all the screams he could still hear ringing through his mind, all the cries for help from Peter, and the others that had died in the war. From the face of the Vietnam solider that had died in his arms, crying for God to save him. From the look on Steve's face as the door opened to their prison and Colonel Caldwell stepped through ready to take them home.

"Luke…can I ask you a question?" Bo spoke as he slipped into the room that had recently been his but that he had once shared with Luke.

"Yeah kiddo," Luke whispered, prying his eyes open again.

"What was it like? War I mean, was it heroic! Did you get to shoot a gun?" Bo almost sounded excited about it.

Luke slowly sat up and looked at his cousin, tears began to fill his eyes as he shook his head, "I'm only going to tell you this and tell you it once. War ain't heroic. It's a bloody and terrible thing, that can turn any boy into a man in seconds. You've got it easy living here, seeing these grounds you see everyday, but there are people out there suffering, fighting for us. Some give all Bo, but everyone fighting in this war has given something. Some die, and some of us make it home. But we all come home wounded, maybe not from physical injuries, but we're all hurtin' inside. A piece of me, and Steve and Phil a piece of all of us was lost over in that stupid war. So before you ever ask again is war was cool, or if I got to shoot a gun, you think of the rights and the liberties you have livin' in this house under these rules. You think about people dying just so you could have these rights and these liberties."

Bo said nothing but looked at his cousin, he couldn't remember the younger man ever being so stone cold. Luke lay back down on his bed, closing his eyes again, not caring how his words affected the younger man. Bo sighed and got up from his bed, figuring his cousin could use a little time alone to himself.

Night fell in Hazzard Country, and no one in the Duke family had the heart to wake Luke, he had slept straight with no problems for nearly twelve hours, Jesse had said it was because the boy was so exhausted from not having sleep that he fell into a dreamless sleep.

By midnight Jesse had sent both Daisy and Bo off to bed, with the usual goodnights and I love you's. Bo crept into the room he shared with his cousin and quickly stripped down to his boxers, after that he pulled on his pajama bottoms and pulled back the blankets.

Bo was half way off into dream land when he heard a scream, one that he had never heard before. He shot up in his bed to see Luke sitting up in his bed, chest heaving.

"Luke," Bo climbed out of bed, but Luke held up his hand, before Bo could say another word, Luke shot out of bed and ran to the bathroom.

Jesse sent Daisy back to bed, and Bo back to his room, giving the grown man what little privacy and pride he would have left. He closed the door to the bathroom, concealing at least some of the retching that was coming from the young man.

"When's the last time you ate Luke?" Jesse asked stooping down beside his nephew. The dry heaves had passed and Luke was leaning heavily against the bath tub, looking exhausted.

"Few days 'go…can't keep anything down. I keep seeing them Jesse…"

"Who Luke, tell Uncle Jesse who you keep seeing?"

"The men I killed, who I murdered, the men who died under my watch…my captors…the wounded…the bloody, they keep coming," Luke whimpered.

"Come here Luke," Jesse sat down on the bathroom floor and pulled his nephew close, "let it out son, just let it all out," he whispered rubbing the boy's back.

They were small cries at first, childlike, but as soon as the flood gates opened the tears began to pour and small whimpers turned into gut wrenching sobs. Jesse sighed, he knew this would be coming, silently he was glad that it had come sooner rather than later, the longer before Luke dealt with the pain in his heart, the harder it would be.

"I'm here son, Uncle Jesse's here," Jesse whispered the mantra he had when Luke had been a little child plagued with nightmares of his parent's death, or his Aunt's death or just general nightmares most children tended to have.

A strong man reduced to a painfully small crying child from a war, Jesse cursed the war, but still remained thankful that people were willing to fight for their country. He was at a loss for words, he loved his nephew so very much and wanted to support the boy, but he felt the war was just wrong, it was hurting everyone…all wars hurt people.

The little boy and the man weren't that different anymore to Jesse, yes his nephew had left a young and somewhat naive young boy, unprepared for the horrors he would witness. However, the man that had returned desired to be as naïve as he had once been, he desired to lose himself among the hugs, and kisses, the love of a house hold he had known all his life. He wished he could rid himself of the horrors he had indeed seen. The man and the boy were the same person but like all men, Luke had experienced the pain that truly brought him to full maturity. Jesse knew that sometimes people had to feel exceptional pain or loss to truly be mature.

"My little boy," murmured Jesse as he continued to hold the crying broken spirit in his body. Hoping his words, his love, his hugs would soothe and begin the healing process. The war would never end, Luke would always remember the war, it would never end for him in his mind. However, with help he could and would learn to move on with his life and perhaps learn to enjoy it again like he had when he was younger.

The End


End file.
